


Dark Ice - tales from a frozen tundra

by Trollmor



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Child Death, DARK DARK DARK, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Other, Psychological Torture, Super duper dark, Torture, a lot of hurt not much comfort, actually maybe just don't click, eventual happy ending maybe if you squint, forced scarification, look skrael's mom is a shit mom, tags will be added as things get darker, time to board the horror train, today's special is ANGST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28503501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trollmor/pseuds/Trollmor
Summary: This takes place way back before Skrael became the North Wind, and details bits and pieces from his childhood, adulthood - and eventual transformation. Featuring Maurgh, his mother and master.This is an absolute horror show, please mind the tags.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Dark Ice - tales from a frozen tundra

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt to write down more of Skrael's background than I already have on my tumblr rp blog. My HC is that he hails from a number of long forgotten prehistoric tribes in Siberia.

_Nothing I can say will do the winters justice. Up there in the North, in my once-home. It was so cold, and dear sun, it was_ **dark** _. No matter what you were wearing, the cold seeped into your very bones. It became a part of you. On the most blessed of nights, the stars watched from above. They saw you. But most nights, snow fell thick and heavy and the only difference between night and day was a subtle – and brief – change in light._

_The only thing you can do is keep walking. Keep moving forward. If you do that, you will reach the fire eventually._

_There_ **will** _be a fire there, at the end, and you will stretch your bare hands towards it and close your eyes. The heat will bring you back._

_Keep moving. Even if the North Wind blackens your skin and your bones ache._

_Follow the fire, always. Keep moving. You will reach it._

_Keep-_

_moving-_

**22 000 years ago (give or take a century)**

The small boy woke up with a twitch and a gasp, immediately falling silent with his heart fluttering against his ribcage. The nightmare was quickly forgotten, drowned out by the horrors of reality. _Is she awake? Did I wake her up?_

One heartbeat… two… three… no, it seemed as if he had been lucky.

”Skrael.”

He didn’t flinch. He knew better.

”Yes, Master?”

”If you are awake, see to your duties.”

”Yes, Master.”

He got up and went to tend to the fire in the middle of the hut, making sure it burned strong and true.

”Yes master, yes master”, Maurgh’s voice slithered out of the dark; she was clearly in an irritable mood. ”You are _boring_ me, child.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t fixate.

”We are journeying to a tribe today. Hopefully they have supplies for me.”

Skrael’s hand stilled as he prepared morning food for them. _Supplies._ Maurgh’s role as a magic user ensured her respect and the tribes looked to her for protection and assistance. Not many asked her anymore, though – her help often came with a steep price.

Skrael had made similar journeys with his father, and the reactions were very different. They flocked to him with everything, and he tried to help all. Such a vast difference from his mother and Master.

Skrael had learned to school his features into an expressionless mask, but he watched and privately stitched together his own view of the world. What it was and what it could be. He had watched mothers hug their children. He had seen families and friends laugh together. At ease with each other. He had observed enough sharp contrasts to Maurgh to quietly decide what he didn’t want to be, and perhaps, if he was very clever, could have one day.

He followed her, a silent shadow, and learned. Not because she taught him, but from observing and finding a quiet place to practice. From the reactions of others he concluded that she was ruthless and cruel. For him however, it was simply reality and he adapted as well as he could, keeping any concerns to himself while showing only a carefully kept surface of detached interest.

**The Nameless Boy**

Sometime earlier, _years_ perhaps, they arrived to a tribe at the very outskirts of their territory and there was a boy his age, wearing a blindfold. Maurgh had spoken to the leader and Skrael had not listened, knowing his place was to be invisible during those conversations. Instead he had approached the boy, and they had tentatively began to talk. He had learned that his eyes had been damaged, perhaps of a curse, and now he couldn’t see anything.

When Maurgh had ordered the boy to be brought along, Skrael had been excited. He suspected she had agreed to help the boy to regain his eyesight, but oh how he hoped that she had agreed to take on a second apprentice. _A brother._ Their whispered conversation lasted for hours, all the way back to Maurgh’s caves. It was the longest conversation Skrael had ever had and when the other boy sought his hand an unfamiliar warmth rose in his chest, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of heated water.

When they arrived, Maurgh banished him with a wave of her hand, and Skrael shot the boy a reassuring grin before he found his usual spot to train. A sheltered spot away from the harsh winds. There he sat, practicing levitating pebbles – several at once, seeing if he could make them move in different directions. He could do it without a spell, but after awhile his nose started to drip and stained the snow with red dots. Sniffling, he looked up to see the sun sinking and he hurried back.

There was a delicious scent in the air – Maurgh had hunted, and obviously thought to put some nice herbs on the meat before placing it on the heated stone. When he slunk inside he saw her strapping a leather lid over a pot. Without a word she gestured to the sweet-smelling meat and he hurried over, hardly believing his luck. Taking one piece, he wolfed it down with little care of how hot it was. With a wary glance at his elder, he snatched another piece, chewing more clamly when she smiled at him. _In a good mood, then._

”Where is he?” he dared to ask. His brother would be hungry, and Skrael wanted to impress him with this luxury. ”I can bring him some.”

That earned him a chuckle and a look of amusement. He didn’t understand, and his thoughts raced to keep up, to see what was funny… and he couldn’t. Swallowing another mouthful and taking another bite, uncertain-

She shook her head and nodded towards the heated stone and sizzling flesh.

”Your little friend is right here, child.” Her voice is patient, almost _kind_ , and it slows down the realization – draws it out to infinity -

The next moment he is outside in the snow, heaving until his stomach is emtpy and aching. He crawls to the side, pressing himself against the stone while shoving snow into his mouth and spitting it out again. His insides are still cramping and his normally ordered thoughts are a tangled _mess_ -

”Skrael.”

He doesn’t want to look up.

”Skrael!” The voice is like the crack of a whip and he forces himself to meet her hard gaze. ”Go inside. Eat. Grow strong.”

He wants to scream, but it is stuck in his chest, a wordless howl of horror and disappointment. Because this isn’t how it should be, is it?

_I didn’t even know his name. How am I supposed to remember him?_

He _wasn’t_ supposed to, he knew. The boy had only ever been something to be used. _Not by me. I won’t._

He stood, rigid with tension, and followed her inside. Watched her eat but refused to take another bite. To his relief she didn’t force him and let him slink off to his furs feeling hollow with hunger and disgust.

The light inside became a steady red glow as the fire faltered. Maurgh sat beside it, poking it with a stick and provoking the last fluttering breaths of sparks. Her pale eyes took on an eerie shade of red from the dim light.

”Dearheart”, she sighed when he could not quite mute a choked back sob. ”What do you think you have been eating up until now?”

**Author's Note:**

> *hand you a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket* ♡


End file.
